


these endless moments

by lalaiths



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, PWP, a fit of whimsy, character exploration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-04-05 19:08:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19046569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lalaiths/pseuds/lalaiths
Summary: There will come a day when Genji will remember the strength in their bones, the weary hitch to Ana’s breath. The soft, weary ache a world of war has given them.





	these endless moments

It isn't that he doesn’t age. 

That’s far from the truth. 

Genji can feel age in his bones, wearing him thin in small bits of pain around cyber-enhanced nerve-endings. But there’s something about Angela and age. She doesn’t like it very much. She doesn’t like it seen on her or her creations. She scoffs about Ana sometimes, when she thinks no one's looking. Age feels like growing useless in a generation where it doesn't have to be so. Bodies are mortal, that is so. But science is improvement, that is also fact. A medic is a scientist is a biomechanical engineer, so Ana must know. So as much as Genji may feel it in his very weary soul, the skin that wraps around cybernetics and nano-organisms doesn’t look any different underneath the plates of enhanced metal and armor than it did the day he died the very first time.

Ana ages gracefully. 

Always, forever. She wears it regally, long white hair trailing over her shoulder. She moves effortlessly against him, skin paper-soft and unyielding as steel. Her mouth finds the pulse-point at his throat and he moans like a young idiot, panting so hard he can feel the cybernetics in his throat whirr from heat. 

He presses her down against soft feather pillows, crushes her against the camp-bed, presses biting kisses to her lips. His tongue wars with hers, muscle warring with muscle. Her kiss turns into a trap when she catches the fleshy part of his top lip and nips until he can feel it burning.

Her laugh, the way her thighs wrap around his waist. Her thighs which could crush a man still if she had need to. If she were an assassin still, the subject of his brothers idolizations -- still. But she is Captain, she is Ana, she is an Amari. The strength that held Overwatch together. The hole that tore it apart. 

She is Jesse’s salvation, Gabriel’s friend. She is Jack’s confidant and right hand man. 

She is pushing Genji off of her, pressing him back against the unyielding bed, crushing his head to the soft down pillows and riding him out. Sweat slicks the sides of her temples. Her lungs hitch when she breathes deep, when she comes with a cry, when he hisses, ventilation steaming heat out across the gaps in his thighs. His hands are against her hips, pulling her down.

She falls gracefully against his hard plated chest. 

Ana Amari is old. She was old when Genji knew her long before, and she is older still. Genji presses a thumb to the base of her eye and wipes the tear away. Her body is unhindered by enhancements to make the age go easier, or less of a burden. She’s earned her scars and won’t diminish their effects.

People died to make them on her, after all. She cannot forget them. 

Genji presses a kiss to her temple, her one eye closed. She’s steadying her breathing now, one hand brushing against the scarred, bare skin of his face.

He looks down to fetch a blanket for her, pulling it up around her shoulders. When he looks back at her she’s watching him. There’s a flicker in that all-seeing eye of hers. 

“You’ve aged, sweetheart.” She presses the tips of her fingers to the skin curling around metal in the corner of his eye.

Genji chuckles. He cannot help the wry twist of his lips. “Oh, not well.”

"True.” He tries not to flinch at the flash of hurt lancing through him. She presses a kiss to the palm of his hand. He clenches his fingers around hers lightly, feeling their strength to the core of his dual-being. “You’re much more trouble now, you brat.” 

There will come a day when Genji watches all the humans he know pass on and away. He’ll watch the salt-and-pepper take over Jesse’s brown locks, watch Mercy fade and pass all enhancements aside. Genji will sit before Winston’s grave and weep to remember the brilliant mind he used to know. 

Someday he’ll watch his brother pass on and away. He can only hope he forgives himself first. He does not want to watch Hanzo drink himself to an early grave. He wants to see his laugh again, carefree and weightless as it had been once, before duty and honor and the weight of the family took root.

There will come a day where it’ll be only Genji, and Master, watching Fareeha grow grounded and fade. When the Amari legacy will come to an end. When time will finally stop for good on Lena’s clock. 

And Genji will remember the strength in their bones, the weary hitch to Ana’s breath. The soft, weary ache a world of war has given them. 

And Genji will see the world grow around their legacy, and hope they made a difference. Hope that they were heroes, mortal as they were. 

Genji tips his head to the side and presses his lips to Ana’s jaw. He can feel the strong pulsepoint beneath his lips. He bites there and parts with a soft kiss. 

“Are you always so melancholy after sex?” Ana asks, settling herself further against the narrow bed in her room. She raps her knuckles against his chest. “Rest, boy. Worry will age you faster.”

He laughs in surprise, a small, breathless thing that catches his throat. He tucks his head between the nape of her neck and breathes in deep. Her shampoo is an earthy, spiced scent that instantly soothes him. 

“As you command, Captain.”

**Author's Note:**

> i was supposed to be sleeping but this hit me out of nowhere.


End file.
